Sunday, February 28

As it happens I have grown up around a lot of brothers, and less of giggly, Barbie-obsessed girls. There was a time when my head was invariably clean shaven to give me the look of a 'bhai'(not brother, a 'respectable' mafia Don in certain parts of India). The point here is, that I have grown up playing more with guns and strategies to kill my virtual enemies than I have spent time about what my doll would like to wear for the tea party on the weekend or her best friend's wedding reception. Naturally, I am quite familiar with the defense terminology which we as kids would, so unabashedly, use while shooting each other with sound bullets(dhoosh, dhishkiao etc).

Why I brought this up is because it suddenly occurred to me that it is through this word that fate brought two people together. If it weren't for the word 'Roger', I don't think I'd have been friends with this particular person(For convenience's sake let's name this person X). If you really must know (don

t tell me I didn't warn you)-"All men by nature desire knowledge " - a friend of mine (say 'Y') came from out of town and had to meet X, who now lived in my city. So Y texts X from my no.(to avoid roaming charges etc). The next day X texts me thinking it Y. I relay the fact of Y's absence. X tells me to pass on the msg n I say 'Roger that.' The reply, 'I didn't kno people in dis city knw da art f textin!! ' viola!

That was then . The texting still continues. Sometimes typing takes over calls. This is not a post where I analyse the relationship. The point of concern here is that things we learn- irrespective of the place, the time, the intention, always seem to come back to make themselves useful in some curious way. this probably would be the best place to quote my favourite professor (his very first line, as far as I can remember, was): "I want you to read, watch movies, experience life because from pornography to a dictionary, nothing goes to waste!"

A passing dream suddenly forced me to change things around here in the blog. Not that I got bored of the template or anything. I particularly loved where my words hung. The colour purple- a dark yet mellow hue which calmed me yet stirred a mood in me which although not the happiest but brought out the best in me; the forest which seemed like an deep abysmal unearthly world of my thoughts gave me more and more to think and explore in the depths of my mind.

But today while on my forced(had to avoid the assignment) afternoon nap I saw myself being sucked into this world, not how I usually am- quite willingly- but in a sort of hypnotic way where I hadn't any power either to think on my own let alone resist. I had, in a way, created a Frankensteinian world, which as I knew had a life and personality of its own, was now developing ulterior motives as well. the colour didn't seem as calming and the air felt sinister.As if soomething that I have made an integral part of my life has been the reason which kept me from advancing for the better, as if it not only checked but also steered my thoughts in a direction which I should have changed a long time back, as if it made me prisoner of my own self.

So here I am with a very different visual something that is not exactly me- but i guess that is the whole point. Its been only 5 mins since I have changed it and I am already warming up to it. The fonts, the colours, the ideas , the words although not antithetical would continue to represent 'me' in a different shade- hopefully better.

Thursday, February 25

To the people who have made things easier to bear, to feel, to hate, to love, to live through, to yearn, to look forward to in this new phase that I stepped into a few months back..

Together, in laughter and tears, in distance and clinginess, in silence and in shouts, in gossips and complaints, in wakeful nights and sleepy classes, in loving and hating , in positive and negative vibes, in ideating and executing, in this moment and after, and in separation the degree stay 6.

Its the random thoughts and the unspoken bond

The broken strings and yet the attached cello-tapes

The running between rooms or the fleeting glimpses

Its the six degrees of separating separations...

(P)It’s the drinking and the pukingIt’s cheering for every gradeIt’s a celebration, it’s a memoryIt’s more than just a passing phase...(AJ)

Its the fights and differences

its about being smitten by each others enthusiasm

its the varying wavelengths of attitude

but mainly about balancing the rhythm of friendship

(AG)

it’s the kisses and the misses

It’s the group studies and the gossips

It’s the eating and then walking

It’s the separation which always ends in meeting again

(T)

its the tea in the mess and 'n' number of glasses,

the rumage for the seats for lunch and for classes,

Its the fights, the laughs, the claps and Shanghai

Its the 6 degrees entwined in the "Us" and the "I".(M)

its the bread&mayo n hot water bags the 500bucks per head n personalised surprises

Friday, February 19

I've been dreaming a lot about food lately, not food that’s healthy but food that helps you, generously, not be able fit into your own pants. Makes me wonder, can't I even not-gain- weight even in my dreams!

Well, set a few facts straight, I am not a glutton, but once in a while I just get into a kind of trance where all my thoughts are governed by reshmi kababs, garlic breads with dip, swirls, salads with extra ex-tuh-ra mayonnaise, Subs, gol gappe, dessert(you don't want me to even start there!) and what not. Secondly, my portions are pretty small and I sometimes wonder why I even bother to order something all for myself when I know I, invariably ,won't be able to finish it, or even if I do, I’d be cribbing about a way-more-than-full stomach. Thirdly, I give in to the temptations(result: the consequent struggle with my pants) for people keep telling me, time and again, 'Seriously woman,If you're Fat , I am the Dalai Lama'. But the thing is there are days when I just don’t care for I know that I have a set of look-slim-no-matter-what clothes which are reserved for the following day.

But the main reason for writing this post is that while biting into the succulent kabab last night (*sigh*) I hit upon the ultimate ontological truth that us humans have been neglecting for a long time, for the sake of ‘something more meaningful and higher.’

Polithinks: Good food is the only thing that satisfies your needs and keeps you happy, ALWAYS! Not relationships,not family, nor pets (they die too),not money, not success (for your friends then somehow fall prey to jealousy), nor beauty (it fades) and sometimes not even sleep(‘To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub’)!

So here I am all ready to go out again and grabbing a bite(or two!) and some happiness.

Wednesday, February 10

I finally got the connection in my room again.after almost a month...and what do I see..

I can't play Cafe world it just won't open and I can't comment on any of mine or anybody else's blogpost!!

I am pissed off, hence the conscious effort not to make this into a post about something philosophical and stealing the limelight from the important matter at hand----> I can't comment on any of the blogposts, anywhere...